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User blog:Corbierr/A random short story that has nothing to do with HOA
So I wrote this little story for my writing camp this year, and I'd love to see what you guys think. No, it has absolutely nothing to do with Anubis, but...Whatever. :P _______________________________ The house was dark and cold, and smelled of rotting wood. Calvin swallowed back his fear and tried not to drop his flashlight despite his trembling hands. He wanted to leave. This was a bad house, an evil house, and he knew it. But the other boys dared him to go in here and find the legendary key, William’s Key to be exact. The key in the story, the only thing that was said to be left when Jacob William was murdered in this very house. He was walking through the upstairs hallway. The floor creaked loudly beneath him and he was afraid it’d give out. Something ran across his foot and he screamed, dropping his flashlight on the floor in time to see a small tail disappear into the darkness. It was just a rat. Calvin picked up the flashlight and told himself he’d need to be calmer, if he were to complete the dare and prove himself to not be a coward. This hallway was full of pictures. He pointed his flashlight at them, trying to convince himself that the eyes weren’t following him or anything. But they were just paintings, of all the former owners of the house. Alexander William, the founder; Mary William, his daughter; Fredrick William, her son…and the last one, of course, Jacob William. Calvin pointed his flashlight expectantly at the last picture, but had to double check when he thought he saw nothing in the picture. But he was right, because when he looked, the picture was blank. He gently touched the canvas and felt the bumps of the old paint, then stumbled backwards. Something was wrong. Why was Jacob William not in his own picture? A sense of danger washed over him and twisted his gut. He had to get out of here. Calvin began to run, run from whatever was scaring him so much, and made his way to the stairs that lead to the attic where William’s Key was said to be held. He walked up the stairs, very slowly; and nervously began to turn the knob. When he did, he swore that he heard…something. Calvin froze to listen, but everything was silent. Telling himself to keep brave, he opened the door. It opened with a loud and shrill creak- a creak that made his heart beat faster and his palms sweat. Everything was dark; darker than dark, actually. He walked into the room, keeping his flashlight close, trying not to run. What would the kids at school think of him, then? All he had to do was get the key. That should be easy enough. Except that nobody had ever seen the key for real. People who have taken pictures had their cameras break before they could show anybody, and people who came up here to take the key, like him? Well, he didn’t want to dwell on ''those ''stories. Besides the darkness, once he was up there, the attic was less scary than he had assumed- no bats, no skeletons, no monsters lurking in the darkness. It was still scary, but next to what he had been expecting, this was like a trip to Candy Land. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Calvin looked around with his flashlight. There was a chest, a mannequin, and an old mirror covered in dust, along with boxes of other junk covered in white sheets that Calvin didn’t dare touch. Then, in one corner of the room, everything was dark. He sucked in a breath and walked closer, pointing his flashlight at the shadow. There was a small gleam. His heart rate quickened and he leaned down to check. Sure enough, covered in cobwebs and dust, was William’s Key. Calvin reached for the key, grinning. He would be a star, come home with the key and be a legend. This was perfect… He touched the rusty metal and picked it up, slowly, relishing in this moment. He held it in his hand, looked at it in the light; it was a key, of course. Just a normal, little old key; but yet it was legendary, and he’d be too. He looked back at the corner but it was no longer dark. He shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling and turned away. Calvin walked towards the door, key in hand, when he heard a voice. It was louder, this time, and it seemed to be saying a name. His name. He screamed and stumbled back. His flashlight flickered; and as the lights flashed he saw a shape, but Calvin couldn’t be sure what it was. “He-Hello?” He stammered. “Calvin!” The voice screamed, and something seemed to be moving in the darkness. “CALVIN!” His eyes widened. He wanted to run, to scream; but he couldn’t move a muscle. It was like he was frozen. It let out a shrill shriek this time, a shriek that shook the house. What did it want? Something moved; a shadow. He saw it; a flicker of darkness, of evil, coming after him. It crashed over him, like a wave, and the darkness consumed him. ---- When Calvin was able to see again, he was looking out over the living room from the upstairs hallway. He tried to move, but he was still stiff. He couldn’t even feel anything. All he could do was think, scream out for help in his head, and breathe, and stare out over the house. This was cruel fate at its finest, he realized. He wanted to be legendary, but not like this. Calvin never intended to become a painting. Category:Blog posts